


no words to be found

by dabblingDilettante



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabblingDilettante/pseuds/dabblingDilettante
Summary: Mercedes and Dedue discuss anger and gender.
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24
Collections: Fire Emblem Trans Winter Exchange 2020





	no words to be found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yevie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevie/gifts).



> A fic for the Trans FE winter exchange! My giftee asked to be sent this over email, but I hope they enjoy this and have a wonderful holiday.

Dedue methodically picked up the broken remains of the greenhouse flowers. Of what was left was primarily what was too large to touch or what was likely seen as too ugly to bother with. Most of the flowers had been ripped out wholesale. Some, he thought, could be salvaged if he was quick enough. The roots remained for some plants, and that was a positive. Of those that were only broken stems and petals – he tried not to think about those.

“Who could have done this!” Annette wailed.

“I don't know,” Dedue murmured.

“It's not right,” she answered. “I'm going to report this and ask around.”

Sylvain was, strangely, right behind her. “I can't just ignore people ruining my favorite date spot,” he said, with some strain in his voice.

Dedue looked at both of them. “I ask that you do just that.” They paused on the spot. “Ignore it. I will take care of this.”

And third -

“We will take care of this.” Mercedes was behind the two frustrated red students like a ghost. She placed her hands on each shoulder and personally showed them out. “Before you see it again, it will be as good as new.”

Dedue did stop to watch her leave with them. From the greenhouse, he could see her stroll to each of their rooms and turn around back to the greenhouse.

“You didn't need to lie to them,” said Dedue.

“Sometimes children need a small story to calm them down,” Mercedes answered, the same easy smile on her face.

Dedue chuckled at that. “I doubt Sylvain is that much of a child.”

“Maybe to you,” she said, joining him in laughing.

He couldn't stop Mercedes from leaning down and matching his movements, either. However – it did mean he could start transplanting his good flowers back into the dirt. Though the roots remained on several, the stems were no longer quite strong enough to stand on their own. As if reading his mind, Mercedes was at his side. In her hands were small sticks and strings.

“It's not easy to stand back on your own,” she murmured. “Flowers aren't that different from us.”

Dedue stared at her. “You always seem to have what's needed.” It meant she'd been planning on coming too. Maybe she'd been in here even before he had begun his own process.

Her eyes opened up wide to meet his gaze, the smile fading away. “I just noticed your hands were shaking.”

He pressed hid lips together.

“You're angry,” she said. Stared back down at the torn soil. “Like me.”

Dedue nodded, even though she was no longer looking at him. She probably didn't need the confirmation.

“A part of me always wondered,” murmured Mercedes. “Just how similar you were to me.”

For a time, they worked in silence. Plants that could not be salvaged were placed in a large basket from the back. Monastery workers came to express their shock, but maybe because it was Mercedes and Dedue together – they did not interfere. Perhaps it was because they wanted to avoid him in the first place. Perhaps it was because Mercedes was seen as almost another of the monastery already, so of course she would step in to fix its affairs. Both ideas frustrated him.

“We should be able to use some of these destroyed plants for potions,” said Mercedes. “I'm sure the apothecary will be pleased.”

“They'd be happier if we gave them ingredients that hadn't been mauled,” he said.

“Oh. You sound almost annoyed,” she laughed.

“I apologize.” Dedue gave her a smile for that one, a private joke for her. “I'll obfuscate more next time.”

“People tend to assume it's impossible for me to be annoyed,” she said. “Perhaps they mean it as a compliment. That I'm so even tempered and sweet.” Her calm expression twisted with a furrow of her brow. “It seems to me that sometimes they assume they have to act the same as me when I'm around them. So it makes me happy to see you show it.”

“Normally I wouldn't,” Dedue answered. “The people here believe I could fly into a rage for no reason at all. I do not plan to give them any more reason to assume it.”

Mercedes said, “Is that really it?”

He didn't say anything.

“I don't know how you feel. I know my life and experience is different than yours. But … sometimes, I wonder if I could even be truly angry.” She brushed away the dirt that stuck to her skirts. “You know the way Annette gets pent up. Or how rude Felix is, so much of the time.” She looked sad. “I feel like I couldn't touch that. The idea of even expressing it feels …”

“It feels unpleasant,” Dedue interrupted.

“In a manner of speaking,” she said.

“I avoid it.” It felt like a creeping sickness welling up in his throat and going no further. Like something he should never move toward for fear of what could happen. Uncontrollable, or worse yet, something that wasn't him. “It is unproductive and I do not have time to be such.”

“Yes,” Mercedes said, relief palpable in her voice. “Yes.”

She was sorting through more of the remains, jittering hands and fingers. 

“What is it like for you,” he asked. He couldn't quite explain it to her. Couldn't allow himself. But asking someone else. Maybe she could put the words down that could reflect some part of him.

Mercedes took her time. “There was a point in my life where I was expected to keep my emotions inside me. At the time, I thought once I did something particular, I wouldn't have to do that anymore. But once I succeeded in my goal, I found that on the other side, people still pushed back against my emotions. People were still surprised when I would express them. After all this time, I suppose it's made it … strange.” She looked lost. “My emotions, that is.” Then she laughed. “A stranger to myself, someone might say? I shouldn't ramble like this, I'm sorry Dedue. I know you aren't interested in my life story.”

“I am,” he said. In the space, Dedue went on. “You're interested in mine. What would be less about yours.”

Mercedes opened her mouth to close it. She spoke as if starting again. “You're right. If I'm interested in your life, of course you'd be interested in mine. I shouldn't treat that as if different.” She took a deep breath. “Have you ever been dissatisfied with the idea of being a man?”

“I was interested in you talking about yourself,” Dedue answered.

“Then give me a little more of yourself.” Mercedes led him to the back of the greenhouse, out of sight of the front door. “I promise this is relevant.”

He sighed. For his family – for his country – gender wasn't such a stark definition as it was to Faerghus. Certainly, he could say now there were things he wasn't satisfied with, but - “If I had to give an answer. I would say yes. But I can't do much to change the expectations.”

“But what if you could,” she asked. “I know we can't change this country easily, but we can change ourselves if we please.”

She seemed so sincere. “Then. ...Yes. That would be a worthwhile change.”

Mercedes' hands were up and her fingers were crinkled in front of her face like she was excited and scared at the time time. “I did that!” A whisper, but then louder. “I. Did that. I did!”

He smiled. It was … he'd never heard such a genuineness in her voice before. Such a joy. “I'm happy to hear it.”

“Don't you want to know how?” she asked.

“Only if you want to tell it.”

She hummed, practically dancing from the ground. “Magic.”

“You are skilled in the subject,” said Dedue. “But how did that change anything?” Her position, maybe. He didn't know much about her history, but since she'd once lived in the Empire, he could only assume that maybe it was her knowledge that did it.

“I transitioned,” she said in sing-song. Before he could ask more, she went on. “Before I was publicly a woman, people assumed I was otherwise.”

“As in not a woman,” Dedue filled in. He understood, now.

But Mercedes still spelled it out. “As in, they thought me to be a man.” 

“As they do me,” he said.

Her eyes were like saucers. She nodded, hesitant, but overjoyed.

“But.” It was so hard to figure out how he wanted to speak. What the words were meant to be. He settled on avoiding it. “I'm happy for you.”

“It's one of the nicest things about surviving,” she said. “...even if I can't express my emotions, I've been able to make everyone see. Me. In degrees.”

“Degrees? Is there more, then.” More that she wanted. And maybe that was something – Mercedes wanted without saying it, but she wanted through the sheer force of living as herself. It made Dedue's heart skip a beat.

“Well...” Mercedes laughed. “It took years of magical treatment to look the way I wanted. Is this it? Is there more to it?” She hummed. “I don't know.”

She held a flower up between the small sticks to allow for Dedue to tie it all together. It might not work well, but it was a makeshift answer. It would work for now. If left alone, the flowers would wilt and – he found himself pausing in the middle of his thought.

“Then how do you want to look,” he asked, quiet.

“That's a funny question,” she giggled. “I'm a beautiful maiden, so I shouldn't complain. That's what I'm told.” It wasn't sadness in her eyes, he noted. It was frustration. A frustration he was terribly familiar with. “Maybe I'll cut my hair,” she laughed. “But that's not very feminine, is it.”

“It would suit you,” he said. “If that was what you truly wanted. That's the point, correct.” His fingers brushed against hers, half accidental. “What you want.”

“Yes,” she said. “And what you want.”

Though Mercedes was clearly waiting for another response, more from him, Dedue couldn't summon much more for her. There was too much he could say and no way for him to translate them to any language he knew. They finished their grisly work and delivered what was left to the apothecary. Yet when they were due to depart, he paused on the threshold.

“Do you know what I would like,” he asked.

“What do you want?” she asked again, the same tone in her voice.

“I'd like to bake,” said Dedue. “Would you join me?”

Mercedes smiled. “Every time.”


End file.
